


togetherness (Luke, seriously, shut up)

by valiantnerd (arareads)



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Luke is too cocky for his own good, M/M, Making Out, Reggie is southern, not tagged as explicit because i dont think it is?, plot with a side of something porn-adjacent, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arareads/pseuds/valiantnerd
Summary: Wherein Luke has awful timing.-"Luke had made it his mission to get on Reggie’s nerves today by trying to start conversations as he mercilessly manhandled him, hands roaming around the landscape of skin and fabrics, keeping his voice even with that awful teasing tone of his, apparently unbothered by the pretty boy basically jerking himself off with his thigh.Egged on by the lack of a coherent response he pushed his attempt at small-talk further.“Don’t you think so, Reg?” Luke nipped at Reggie’s collarbone, smiling like the self-assured little shit he was.“Luke- mh, if you don’t shut up, I’ll punch you,” Reggie’s response was punctuated by his spine arching prettily, while Luke, the cocky bastard, simply laughed, sending his hands roaming over the boy's abdomen and the small of his back."
Relationships: Alex & Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 405





	togetherness (Luke, seriously, shut up)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, welcome.   
> Couple things before we get going:  
> \- I wrote this in an attempt at Kinktober, but since I'm no Smut Writer, the prompt (thigh riding) came as secondary to the plot. Don't expect too much sexy, I mean.  
> \- If you, perchance, read "hunt for a yellow café" and were disappointed at the lack of physical affection: this is my attempt at redeeming that.  
> \- I really really really hope y'all will enjoy it.

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have,” Luke said.

Reggie would’ve laughed, really, it was so fucking dumb it was hilarious; but the only sounds he could produce at the moment where the soft moans and elusive gasps that he buried in Luke’s neck as a sort of gift, _for your ears only_.

Luke had made it his mission to get on Reggie’s nerves today by trying to start conversations as he mercilessly manhandled him, hands roaming around the landscape of skin and fabrics, keeping his voice even with that awful teasing tone of his, apparently unbothered by the pretty boy basically jerking himself off with his thigh.

Egged on by the lack of a coherent response he pushed his attempt at small-talk further.

“Don’t you think so, Reg?” Luke nipped at Reggie’s collarbone, smiling like the self-assured little shit he was.

“Luke- _m_ _h,_ if you don’t shut up, I’ll punch you,” Reggie’s response was punctuated by his spine arching prettily, while Luke, the cocky bastard, simply laughed, sending his hands roaming over the boy's abdomen and the small of his back.

Reggie, in turn, was riding Luke’s thigh in a shameless display of their admittedly interesting relationship. It wasn’t the first time they did something like this either, but it _was_ the first time Luke decided to talk about this– thing between them, why he would choose such a weird fucking time was beyond Reggie’s comprehension. 

See, they’d been doing _things_ like this for a little while now. It’d started around Bobby’s birthday last year, they’d all drank one too many cheap beers and were having a little too much fun at the studio, classic teenage boy stuff. Then Alex and Bobby left, and suddenly they had to find something to do other than tease Bobby over “growing up so fast” or get in heated discussions with Alex over which hair styling product was better (Reggie was a fan of gel, Alex was more fond of foams). So, they did the next best thing: drink more beer and talk about whatever, feeling like a pair of uncles at a barbeque, the kind that’s always at the sidelines chugging down some drink or other and half-talking lazily about the weather or sports- whatever it was that uncles talked about.

They didn’t yet have a knack for those neutral conversations though, where the worst trespass could be supporting some football team instead of the other; so how could they have known they were quickly entering uncharted territory when they started a compliment battle?

It wasn’t on purpose either, Reggie had mentioned how impressive he found Luke’s ability to come up with lyrics and melody, said it was like he was _made_ of music.

Then Luke talked about how good Reggie was at picking up instruments, coyly mentioning he’d heard him practice on the banjo once and appearing deeply ashamed at how much he enjoyed it.

Then the compliments shifted from music-related to their _looks:_ Reggie gushed for a solid five minutes about how well Luke pulled off those stupid sleeveless shirts.

Then Luke returned the favor by going on and on and _on_ about how well Reggie looked with his punk aesthetic, emphasizing how much he liked the ripped skinny jeans on him.

And they’d been so immersed in it all, they didn’t- couldn’t notice they’d drifted together on the couch.

Even then, who could blame Reggie for enjoying the weight of Luke’s hand on his thigh? How could anyone reprimand Reggie’s hand sneaking up Luke’s arm?

It was natural.

Too natural to be bad or reprehensible at all.

Too natural to make them stop in their tracks before closing the space between them, drinking in all of each other in a kiss that inevitably snowballed into something more.

Kisses progressed into hands sneaking under shirts, poorly hidden hickeys, and, eventually, make-out sessions that left both of them breathless and red-faced. Like this one.

Luke had been peppering light kisses all along Reggie’s neck and whatever peek of collarbone managed to sneak out from his black tank top, his hands resting right on the other boy’s hips, kneading down ever so slightly in a gentle suggestion, a well-rehearsed command: _move_. Reggie’s hands pulled softly at the hair right at Luke’s nape, blunt nails digging into his scalp whenever pleasure shot through him like an electric shock.

Reggie, fueled by the immense frustration Luke generated in him and feeling a little too hot-and-bothered, gripped his hair a little tighter and maneuvered the boy’s head back, away from his own neck. He needed a breather, it was hard focusing- keeping himself in line, if he was, well, getting hard.

Luke appeared confused and worried in equal parts, “what is it, baby?”, his hands caressing his waist soothingly.

Ugh, that nickname. Luke had taken a liking to it after seeing it was a surefire way of making Reggie blush until he was all pink. Reggie thought he’d get used to it but it made the butterflies in his stomach soar with renewed vigor.

“Mh… Just wanted to see your face,” he smiled softly, now caressing the boy’s face.

“I’m _that_ pretty, huh,” Luke chuckled lowly, receiving an eyeroll in response.

Reggie by now had had enough of his bandmate’s big mouth and decided he should get a taste of his own medicine. He shifted around for a second, trying to come down from the pleasure and into his logical mind, before straddling Luke’s hips, grinning with satisfaction when the boy gasped, his hands flying upwards as if suddenly Reggie was burning him.

“You okay there, honeypie?” Reggie’s hands traveled down the other boy’s chest, a southern accent lacing his word. Luke had let it slip once that he was particularly fond of it and Reggie made a mental note to bring it out at times like this.

Luke was shocked for a second, before seemingly catching on to the devious plan being executed against him. And, really, where was the fun in playing alone?

“With a pretty thing like you on my lap, I’m great,” a smirk. A fucking smirk.

Reggie should’ve thought it over a little longer before moving forward with this teasing war, but if the Patterson boy below him was going to be merciless, he would have to show him what he was made of too.

Luke’s hands returned to his hips, making him shiver slightly, and he took them as a reminder, _move_ , and if there’s one thing Reggie was good at was following instructions. He started grinding his hips again, making sure to keep himself present, trying -instead- to sink Luke in enough pleasure to keep him quiet.

“ _Fuck_ , baby, that’s good,” Luke threw his head back on the couch, unwittingly opening the metaphorical door for Reggie to up the stakes.

Reggie brought one of his hands to cradle Luke’s neck, thumbing over where he could see veins blossoming under the skin- ones Reggie had spent years fixated on from afar, especially whenever they were on stage and the songs were right at their peak, Luke would get so worked up, so into the song it seemed like he would burst with all that energy, all the unbridled passion. Possessiveness rushed through him suddenly, _he_ could do this to Luke because he was his– something. Everyone else would have to admire from afar just as he had for so long while _he_ could make a mess of him.

Throwing his “staying present” plan to the wind, Reggie surged forward and started biting and sucking at the skin, a little harsher than he usually did, this was _his_ boy and how would people know if he didn’t show it? How would they know if he didn’t have _his_ name written in pretty purples and pinks all over him?

Even though his plan had been sent to the backburner his new technique had Luke coming undone, moaning with abandon and trying to match his movements with his own thrusts, fingers digging into denim, chanting nonsense praise when he could gather his wits just enough to produce language.

It was way better than when he was being a little shit.  
  


But, alas, peace isn’t a lengthy visitor.

“Reg,” he whined, “ _holy_ _fuck_ … D’you wanna be my boyfriend?”

Reggie froze for a second, sat up, and tugged at his shirt in an attempt to tidy it– as if decency was ever a concern.

Luke’s grip on his hips tightened for a second, _move_ , but Reggie didn’t heed his orders this time, processing the absurdity of the situation. Luke straightened up, his face was all flushed and Reggie didn’t know if it was shyness or a result of his _ministrations,_ with his puppy eyes in full force and the threat of a pout Reggie gave into the stupidity of it all, resuming his movements, Luke raised an eyebrow and his hands shifted, wrapping around his lower back.

That was what brought back the logical part of Reggie's brain to the present time, he tried to make sense of the objectively stupid situation: he hadn’t left Luke’s lap and, honestly, he didn’t want to. Quite the opposite. So the answer was obvious.

A part of him still wanted to have the upper-hand, though, so he armored himself up with indifference and asked himself: _what would Alex, master of sarcasm, say?_

“If I say yes, will you shut up?” Luke laughed, loudly, breaking the somewhat secretive aura they had until then.

“Whatever my baby wants, he’ll get”

“Ok, sure, now shush,” keeping his voice level and neutral was hard through the absurd smile he was sporting.

“You’re amazing, Reg,” Luke, with his puppy eyes now filled with more joy than he’d ever had, stared dreamily at his _boyfriend_ , biting down slightly on his lip.

“I just said shush! C’mon, man,” Reggie threw his head back in mock exasperation, a smile still wide on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, that's the thing.   
> Did you like it? Did you hate it? Let me know! (be nice abt it though i cry easily).


End file.
